Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I knew who and what I was. And my father realized it too.
That’s why he didn’t challenge me further.
That’s why he kept his fucking mouth shut and went back to eating.
Because he knew.
He knew I was worse than him, and he had to tread carefully.
6
TATIANA
It wasn’t like I’d seen in movies or read in books.
There was no slow, gradual shift back into consciousness. The pain was so intense that I forcibly shot upright and clutched at my throat. I clawed at my neck, trying to inhale a full breath of air that didn’t burn like acid.
I was discombobulated, my confusion so jarring that my head spun before it started pounding right behind my eyes. I imagined someone inside my skull with a pickaxe just going to town, seeing how long they could continue to strike before I ripped out my own eyeballs to relieve the pressure.
I forced my hands away from my throat, as the pain was too much, and I wasn’t helping the situation. Instead, I gripped the blankets beneath me. I didn’t know where I was, the room too blurry and dark, with just a sliver of daylight peeking through the thick curtains.
Although I didn’t know my location, I assumed I was somewhere in close proximity to the skull-masked fighter. He’d saved me… whoever he was.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, thinking back to what happened.
He killed that man for me. But at what cost? Was I now his prisoner? Had he kidnapped me when he realized he knew who my family was? On instinct, I lifted my hands and touched my hair. Like my real hair. My wig was gone.
I wasn’t so up my own ass that I assumed everyone knew who I was, but anyone who visited Butcher and Son sure as fuck would. They all ran in the same corrupted circles.
Maybe he’d try to get a ransom for my return. Or maybe he’d kill me and send my brothers my head in a box as a warning— just for shits and giggles.
But when I shifted in bed and felt the tugging on my arm, all of that fear left as I saw the IV.
The bag was nearly empty, and I’d seen enough medical supplies and interventions with my brothers and their men getting patched up to know the only thing in there was saline.
I turned off the machine and disconnected the IV, bending my arm at the elbow to stop the blood. And then I looked around for a moment.
I wasn’t wearing my oversized jacket, but I could see it, as well as the wig, sitting beside the bed.
The room was pretty bare and basic, with no distinguishing characteristics that would tell me where exactly I was or who owned this place. I got off the bed and made my way to the window. My entire body was so sore, my head throbbing, my throat feeling so constricted and swollen that every time I swallowed, it was like acid burning me from the inside out.
I pulled the curtain aside and saw the early-morning rays of sun starting to peek over the skyscrapers. It lit across the city, and I recognized the scene. I didn’t know precisely where I was, but I knew I was right on the outskirts of Desolation.
It was when the confusion and discombobulated feeling started to fade that the real panic settled in. I turned toward where my jacket was and stumbled forward, frantically searching around to see if my purse was with it.
A sigh of relief—and dread—filled me when I saw it was tucked underneath. I dug inside for my cell phone. Although it was a burner, there were several texts from Giana, asking where I was and if I was okay.
Then the calls started from her. The last text I received showed an unknown number with just four words.
I knew it was from one of my brothers.
Unknown
We’re coming for you.
I sank to the edge of the bed and closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead as sheer dread settled inside me. The pain consuming my entire body intensified.
I knew Dmitry and Nikolai probably called my friends until they found the only one who knew where I was. Giana.
I couldn’t be mad at her or blame her for folding. My brothers could make anyone crumble without saying a single word.
“Fuck,” I said breathlessly and grabbed my jacket. I threw it on just as I felt wetness drip down my arm. I pushed the sleeve of the jacket up and looked at the crook, seeing the IV site bleeding, but I didn’t have time to deal with that right now. I fixed my jacket, grabbed my shoes and wig, and went to the door.
I was quiet as I turned the knob, fully expecting it to be locked, so when it opened easily, I almost gasped, then slipped out. It only took a second to know I had to go left to get out.